


Silver and Gold

by JBankai89



Series: The Twelve Days of Smutmas [12]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adoption, Christmas, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Kids, M/M, Orphanage, Orphans, Slightly OOC Severus, Werewolves, judgemental Weasleys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 02:02:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9050848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JBankai89/pseuds/JBankai89
Summary: Harry couldn't be happier with his life with Severus, his partner of five years, and his job running an orphanage for war orphans. The same cannot be said for how his surrogate family feels about his partner however. After they inform Harry that Severus is no longer welcome at the Burrow, Harry anticipates a maudlin, quiet Christmas. When a new arrival shows up in his office a few days before Christmas, Harry realizes very quickly that everything is about to change.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: SNARRY CHRISTMAS! I saved the BEST for last, and gift you lovelies with a story involving my OTP. Please enjoy, and I hope you all have a safe and happy holiday.
> 
> Special thanks to HecatesKiss for helping me with some of Sev's dialogue. You rule! <3

Special thanks to Faladrast for the awesome graphic! Check them out on [Facebook](https://www.facebook.com/Faladrast-118654891940425/?fref=ts) or at [**http://faladrast.weebly.com/**](http://faladrast.weebly.com/)

* * *

 

Silver and Gold

 

For a great many years, Harry Potter had loathed the sound of his own name.

The vocalization usually led to the sudden appearance of a reporter or rabid (if well-meaning) fan of some kind, and even with Voldemort dead and gone for eight years, his fame had not dwindled in the slightest, and he was still hounded near-constantly.

However, there was a certain charm to hearing it when he stepped out of the blustery December cold, and into the warmth of the orphanage he ran.

“Harry!”

“ _Harry!_ ”

“It's Harry!”

Within seconds over a dozen children had surrounded him, some jumping into his arms, others grabbing hold of his legs, and each one bright-eyed and squealing with delight.

Harry laughed, hoisting the little boy that had jumped into his arms higher so that he could prop him on his hip, and he grinned over the heads of the gibbering children to the nearby caregivers. They returned the smile and shook their heads, turning back to their duties. They all knew that Harry was well-loved by the children here, and no one begrudged him for being the favourite.

“Oh, Lucas! You're getting heavy!” Harry said with an exaggerated groan as he readjusted his hold on the child and Lucas giggled. “Have you all been good for Hannah and Marc?” He asked, and a chorus of yeses met the question. “All right then, come on then, snacks, and then we can write some letters to Father Christmas!”

A resounding cheer met the proclamation, eliciting a short laugh from Harry. He set Lucas down and he ran ahead with the others down the passageway and to the mess hall.

“Still the favourite, eh Mr Potter?” Hannah asked, sidling up to Harry as she, too, watching the crowd of kids tear down the hall.

“At least I'm a favourite this time for something decent,” Harry replied with a small smile, “running an orphanage is a bit more fun than killing a mad dark lord, don't you think?”

“Well considering I haven't had the opportunity to kill a mad dark lord I wouldn't know—unless you count that time I hexed Malfoy for you.” She grinned, and Harry smirked a little.

“It comes a close second I think—he's still got the marks from those boils,” Harry paused when she laughed. “Anyway, I better catch up with the kids, you staying behind long?”

“Neville's waiting up for me, but I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?” Harry nodded once to her question, and after offering him one last smile she hurried off.

Harry headed down the passageway after his kids, smirking a little as he relived the last eight years in his mind as he went. He had known, of course, that most had anticipated that he'd become an Auror, or professor, or something to that effect, and perhaps due to their expectations, his decision to use his inheritance to open an orphanage must have come as something of a shock.

At the time of its opening, many at the Ministry and in the press had lamented on how it was such a 'waste' that Harry Potter had gone from war hero to _glorified babysitter_. An epithet that gained popularity thanks in no small part to Rita Skeeter's scathing articles about him.

Harry couldn't see how giving children a place to stay, a hot meal, and a bed to sleep in was a 'waste', but even his friends had urged him to merely hire more staff and go work as an Auror. It appeared that _I don't want to_ wasn't a good enough answer for them, and it only became worse after his relationship with Severus came out into the open.

 

“ _But Harry,” Hermione protested tearfully after he'd told her and Ron, “you_ hate _each other! How can you possibly be_ seeing _Snape? It doesn't make sense!”_

“ _Look, Hermione,” Harry said, raking a hand through his hair as he thought how to best answer her question, “Severus is a lot of things...a cranky bastard, sarcastic, a bit cruel—”_

“— _A bit?”_

“ _Shut up, let me finish,” Harry said crossly, “but beyond all that, we...we understand each other. He gets me in a way that a lot of people don't. We know what the other needs and it just...works.”_

 

The explanation hadn't placated her, and five years later it _still_ hadn't.

 

Harry had never been particularly articulate, and thus explaining himself in those first few months had been difficult, especially in the face of so much rejection towards someone he cared so deeply about.

Hermione and the Weasleys didn't understand it, and Harry often wondered if on some level that was because they didn't _want_ to understand it. It was a depressing thought, but Severus made him happy and made him feel complete in a way Ginny never had. Harry couldn't understand why they didn't want him to have this—did they _want_ him alone and miserable?

 

Harry slipped into the mess hall, his head still in the clouds, and he wove through the long dining tables, offering the a damp towel to wipe the sticky chocolate mess off their hands as needed. They were all gibbering excitedly with each other, but their high voices all bled together so well that it was difficult for Harry to pick out one from the cacophony. He moved continually from one child to another, smiling warmly as he looked on the sea of happy, content faces before him.

 

When the last of the kids had finished their snack, Harry shepherded them from the hall and to one of the many bedrooms he had converted into classrooms. After they were all seated Harry passed out a handful of child-safe self-inking quills and parchment for them to compose their letters on.

They had the children write a letter every year, and every year the practice was both fun for the children, and heart-wrenching for Harry and the rest of the staff. He couldn't count the amount of letters that included _please send me some nice parents that will love me,_ and it took all of Harry's strength of will to not just adopt them all to spare them the pain of going another Christmas without a family to call their own.

That, and if Harry showed up at home with a dozen or so kids, Severus would murder him.

 

“ _I'm not parenting material, Harry_ , _”_ he'd told him more than once, and though it hurt, his work at the orphanage filled the void—more or less.

 

“Harry!” called one of the children at the back of the room, “I'm done!” Harry flicked his wand to collect the scroll, and he got up and hurried to the front of the room, his honey-brown eyes gleaming hopefully. “You'll make sure Father Christmas gets it, right?” He asked softly.

“Of course, Ezra,” Harry promised in a whisper, “I deliver them to Father Christmas myself, we're very good friends. Now, go play, the others will join you when they finish.” The little boy nodded once, his eyes alight with joy, and he hurried out of the room. Of course, by Father Christmas Harry meant Rubeus Hagrid in a red and white suit, but he and the others who worked with the children were the ones who got the gifts for them—along with generous donations from the public.

One by one the other children finished their letters, and Harry carried the lot to his little office before pulling on his cloak and hurrying out to supervise the children outside. His plan to quietly watch them was interrupted quickly when little Jordan pelted a snowball at him, and at the same time Christa tugged on Harry's leg, begging him to help her build a snowman.

 _One of the few times I really wish I'd mastered that splitting spell..._ Harry thought with an amused smile as the little girls gathered around him as he helped them roll the huge mounds of snow. He had been tasked with stacking them properly, which he did with his wand to make sure he didn't drop any of the heavy boulders of snow. They each helped in selecting pebbles for his buttons and tree branches for his arms, and Harry perched one child after another on his shoulders so that they take turns assembling his face, and at last little Christa was pulled up to transfer Harry's winter cap to its head.

Harry then turned to the boys and helped them build their snow forts for their snowball fight, but to his dismay it quickly turned into a sneak attack upon the girls, who shrieked as they were pelted with snow. Harry joined their side and helped them take on the boys, and as the sun began to set overhead, the boys, wet and cold, grumpily complained that the girls only won because Harry had been helping them.

Their displeasure deepened further when Harry had pointed out that he wasn't the one throwing most of the snowballs.

  

~*~

  

“Why do you look like you've just finished an expedition in the Himalayas?”

Harry grinned at Severus's question but didn't immediately answer as he kicked off his boots and used his wand to send the Father Christmas letters he had balanced in his arms to his study.

“Hello to you too Severus,” Harry replied, using his now free hands to unclasp his travelling cloak, but the action was interrupted when Severus swept in for a kiss. He banished Harry's cloak to the hanger by the door with a lazy flick of his wand, and pulled Harry flush against him. Severus's wandering hands rested at his hip and the back of his neck, holding him there for a long moment, and when Severus finally pulled away, Harry felt as though his brain had been replaced with a dense fog.

Severus's hands lingered on him as the kiss broke, and it took Harry several moments to regain his basic motor functions to explain his dishevelled state.

“All-out snow war with the kids this afternoon,” he answered at last with a faint grin. Harry took a short step forward to close the distance between them, but the deep frown upon Severus's face told Harry that they had some sort of crisis to deal with first. After being together for so long, Harry could all but sense his partner's moods, and he knew immediately that something was wrong.

“What happened?” Harry asked before Severus could elaborate further, and the older man held up a tightly wound scroll of parchment. Harry recognized the handwriting on the outside at once, and he swallowed thickly. Compared to when he was younger, these days letters from Molly Weasley did not incite any form of joy in him.

“This came for you today,” Severus replied, his tone and demeanour had not changed, but he appeared slightly more tense to Harry. Molly had made no effort to conceal her disapproval over Harry and Severus's relationship, and thus Harry doubted that the letter contained anything remotely resembling festive holiday cheer.

Harry accepted the scroll, took Severus's hand and all but dragged him to the sitting room without a word. He dropped down onto the settee, and Severus's hand rested lightly upon Harry's thigh as he broke the seal nervously.

 

_Dear Harry,_

 

_I am writing to you concerning our annual Christmas Eve dinner. I know you claim that Severus is good to you, but Hermione mentioned to me that the last time she visited with you, she noticed certain bruises upon your person._

_This is nothing against you my dear, you know that I love you like one of my own, and I cannot force you to not see Severus, but neither can I condone it. We will have seven impressionable youngsters at the Burrow that night, and I cannot in good conscience extend my invitation to Severus knowing that he is hurting you._

_You, of course, are welcome as always, and I do hope that you will seek help to get away from this man as soon as you can. Arthur wanted to report it to Magical Law Enforcement, but both Ronald and Hermione insisted that you would not appreciate the extra publicity._

_I beg of you, please reconsider your choice of a partner. We all love you, and there are so many better people for you out there—people who show their love in a healthy manner._

 

_Love,_

_Molly_

 

His blinding anger momentarily rendered Harry unable to speak. With a growl, he screwed up the parchment into a ball, and pitched it into the fire.

“This is mental!” he raged, jumping up to pace back and forth, his agitation coming off him in waves. “Can Hermione _seriously_ not tell the difference between a hickey and a real bruise?” Harry raked his fingers through his hair as he pivoted on the spot to face the fire and he watched the letter curl into ash. As he stood there, he heard the soft rustle of Severus standing up, and not a second later he found himself enveloped in Severus's arms. Harry leant back against the older man's chest and closed his eyes as the low thrum of Severus's voice washed over him.

“Likely she can,” he drawled as he perched his head on Harry's shoulder, “but because of who I am, and what I have done in the past, Miss Granger can only see the horrors of her time under Lestange's knife. She cannot distinguish between consent and force in this aspect. For this reason she fervently believes that I am abusing you.” Severus let Harry go and settled back down upon the settee, and eased back against its cushions while he watched Harry quietly.

Harry glared at the ashen remains of the letter from his surrogate mother, but didn't answer. Harry felt well beyond words at the moment, and with a huff he plopped himself down next to Severus, who immediately rested his hand high upon Harry's thigh in a move that Harry did not believe for a second was casual.

“Am I to expect to spend Christmas Eve by myself this year?” Severus asked in the same too-calm tone while arched a brow at Harry. He whipped around his head in surprise at the question and Severus continued to speak before Harry could interject. “I would not protest it, I do have some brewing to catch up on—”

“—Like hell you will,” Harry snapped, cutting across him while he crossed his arms. “Accusing you of abusing me is the _last_ fucking straw. If they can't accept you, then I can't accept them; it's as simple as that.”

Harry's small speech was met with a look of mild disbelief; Severus stared him down, as though he expected Harry to take back the statement the moment it had crossed his lips, but Harry stared right back, determined to show Severus that he was serious. He'd had quite enough of their attitude, and the fact that Molly was so determined to keep them apart filled Harry with a quiet sort of rage.

“Are you quite certain?” Severus asked after a pregnant pause, his neutral tone giving away none of his own feelings on the matter. “Regardless of how they feel about my presence in your life, they _are_ your family...”

“They're not my family if they accuse my lover of being a fucking _abuser,_ ” Harry said venomously as he he stared up at his partner. “I—you—Severus,” Harry paused to gather his thoughts, and he laid his hand over the older man's. Immediately their fingers laced together, and Harry saw Severus's gaze soften ever so slightly. “You are without a doubt the best thing that has happened in my life—ever. Every day I am thankful that I have you. Why can't they see that?” Harry felt an embarrassed flush creep up his neck as his voice cracked, and he looked away in embarrassment.

Severus untangled his fingers from Harry's and moved his hand from his thigh to his hip, and drew him into a kiss. Harry melted into it, his eyes fluttering shut while his arms reached up to wrap around the older man's neck.

“They do not wish to see what they cannot accept,” Severus murmured against Harry's lips, “they still see me as I was: Death Eater, Spy, Slytherin's Head of House—”

“—Don't forget all-around bastard,” Harry added with a grin, and Severus shot him a withering glare that did little to quell Harry's expression. He pulled the younger man into his lap without a word, and Harry braced his knees on either side of Severus's legs while he pulled Harry in for another tender kiss.

“As I was saying,” Severus continued after a moment, “they cannot get past their prejudices. Poor qualities in a pack of Gryffindors, I must say, but there it is. One could argue it mirrors my attitude towards you during your school career in many ways.”

“That's true,” Harry replied with a heavy sigh, settling into Severus's embrace, and shifted to rest his head against the older man's shoulder. As much as he wished that the Weasleys could accept Severus, if they couldn't, well, then Harry couldn't accept _them._

 

“What do you say to a just-us Christmas then?” Harry asked as he sat up and regarded Severus with an arched brow. He appeared shocked at the question, and Harry couldn't help but laugh. “What, you thought I'd bugger off to the Burrow without you?”

“That is what I expected, yes,” Severus admitted.

“And my, _If they can't accept you, I can't accept them,_ statement didn't clarify that for you?” Harry asked with a short laugh, and in that moment, he was _sure_ that he saw a faint pink hue colour the Potion Master's cheeks.

Severus didn't answer, and instead merely kissed Harry again.

Harry could feel the emotion behind the kiss, the words Severus's pride couldn't say—the ones his poor self esteem would not deign him to utter. Harry understood it, and kissed him back with equal enthusiasm.

“You are ridiculous, Harry Potter,” Severus murmured, and Harry smiled at his lover, reaching up to brush a hand across his cheek. He leant in to kiss him again, deliberately leaning in further to grind their groins together, and Harry smirked as his action was met with a soft groan.

“Ridiculous for wanting to spend my holidays with my lover instead of my would-be bigoted family?” he asked, arching brow at him. Severus didn't answer verbally, and instead captured Harry's lips in another kiss, this one carrying a hungry edge to it, and Harry let out a soft groan of longing.

Severus wasted no time, and lifted Harry easily and carried him from their sitting room and down the hall to their bedroom.

Harry fell from his arms and onto the royal blue duvet, but Harry had barely landed before Severus was on him again. His soft but strong hands snaked under Harry's jumper and Severus's mouth trailed from his mouth, across his jaw, and along his throat. He hissed sharply when Severus bit down—nowhere near hard enough to break the skin, but certainly hard enough to bruise. Harry let out a low whine of intermingled pain and pleasure, and he felt his trousers tighten further.

“Severus, please...” Harry whimpered, and the older man chuckled as he pressed the heel of his hand against the distinctive bulge, eliciting another shaking moan from Harry.

“Do you realize how you sound when you beg, Harry?” Severus purred, the low quality of his voice causing Harry to moan again. He peeled Harry's jumper off, and Severus proceeded to lick and bite his way down his chest, leaving flushed, bruising love bites in his wake. “I could listen to your pitiful pleading all night.”

“Don't you fucking dare,” Harry hissed at once, and his words were met with a soft chuckle as he freed the top button of his trousers.

“I wouldn't dream of it.”

Severus lifted his wand and flicked it at Harry, causing him to groan as he felt the necessary charms run through him. The older man yanked his trousers and pants off, and with them still pooled around his ankles Severus roughly turned Harry onto his stomach and freed his own cock from its confines.

 _He's impatient today..._ Harry thought hazily, and at almost the same moment he felt Severus's magically slicked cock press against his hole. He keened as the thick member breached the entrance, and bore down on Severus's delicious cock, eliciting a low groan from the older man.

“Severus...” Harry moaned, his breath escaping him in sharp gasps as his lover took him roughly—much more roughly than he normally would have, and Harry wondered if perhaps Severus was working out his own feelings towards Molly's letter by taking him in this manner. Harry wasn't complaining, and fell into rhythm with Severus easily, each hard thrust met with a grunt or a moan. His head dropped forward as they moved, sweat trickling across his face and off the tip of his nose, dotting the dark fabric as they fucked, until at last Severus let out a final grunt of pleasure and filled Harry's hole. His hand dropped to Harry's cock and he stroked him to completion at the same time, and they fell onto the mattress with an audible _flump_.

 

“God, I needed that,” Harry mumbled after a solid minute of sleepy silence, and his words were met with a soft, amused chuckle.

  

~*~

 

Later that evening Severus cooked dinner—a task he had taken up early on in their co-habitation after he'd complained that Harry's skills in the kitchen weren't fit for a swamp troll. Harry didn't think he was _that_ bad, but he was quite happy to get out of cooking, and made up for it by clearing up after.

After they'd eaten, Harry wandered into his study with a cup of tea cradled in his hands, intent on going over the letters his kids had written. With a spare scroll of parchment handy to make notes, he settled down in his well-worn leather chair, set aside the teacup, and picked up the first letter.

 

_Dear Father Christmas,_

 

_I was wondering if you could send me some nice parents, it doesn't matter what kind, a mummy and a daddy, a mummy and a mummy, or even a daddy and a daddy._

_That is what I want most Father Christmas, but Harry says sometimes it is hard for you to find the perfect ones just for me, so if you can't do that, maybe some drawing papers and charcoal would be nice, because I like to draw._

 

_Love,_

_Claire Adderton_

 

Harry smiled sadly at the letter, and noted on his parchment _Claire – Drawing paper and charcoal,_ then moved on to the next letter.

 

_Dear Santa,_

 

_For Christmas could you please have some nice people adopt me? Harry is wonderful but I wish more than anything for a family just for me._

_I would also like an Aidan Lynch figure from the Irish National set, if you can._

 

_From_

_Benjamin Barrie_

 

Below Claire's name, while Harry struggled to swallow past a lump in his throat, he added, _Ben – Aidan Lynch figure._

 

It took the better part of two hours and three cups of tea to get through the stack of letters, and each one carried some variation of _I wish for someone to adopt me,_ which made Harry's heart break for every one of his kids. They did not dislike their lives at the orphanage, Harry knew that, but it certainly wasn't the same as a mother and father to call their own. Each letter hit Harry harder than the last, and by the time he rolled up the scroll of names and Christmas wishes and set it aside, he felt completely knackered. He wasted no time, and after he washed up he headed straight to bed.

Severus was still up, propped up in the bed with his reading glasses perched upon the bridge of his nose, and said appendage buried in a thick hardback. He looked up as Harry stepped inside and shed his clothes unceremoniously before he slid in next to the older man.

“Did something else happen?” Severus asked as Harry set aside his glasses on the bedside table and curled into his side. “You look even more miserable than you did before.” Harry snuggled into the embrace with a heavy sigh as he tried to sort out his thoughts.

“No new drama,” Harry replied reassuringly, “I was just going through the kids' letters to Father Christmas. I just hate that I can't give them all the loving homes that they all want so badly.”

“You give them more love and care than many similar establishments,” Severus answered simply, “they appreciate it, I'm certain.”

“Oh no, the kids adore me,” Harry agreed with a soft laugh, “but it doesn't really make up for not having proper parents.”

Severus did not respond to that, but his arm tensed around Harry. Harry folded himself closer into the embrace, and with another soft, sad sigh he closed his eyes and tried to get some sleep. 

 

~*~

 

Harry got up early the following morning and wrote a response to Molly, and he struggled to keep his tone civil, but get his point across regardless.

It took the better part of an hour fussing over the letter before he was satisfied, and he leant back in his chair to read the finished product over one last time before he sent it off.

 

_Dear Mrs Weasley,_

 

 _I am deeply saddened to hear that after everything you still hold such little trust in Severus. I cannot understand why you feel the need to act so shamefully towards not only my lover, but my life partner, and for all intents and purposes—my_ husband _._

_Severus is a war hero. He gave up everything to help our side, and almost lost his life as a result. I would think that that would be reason enough for you to extend him a little trust, but you still treat him like that which he never truly was—a Death Eater._

_I am absolutely horrified and deeply insulted that you would genuinely believe that after growing up with the Dursleys that I would willingly be with someone abusive. There is a huge difference between a bruise and what Hermione likely saw—that is to say, a love bite._

_Severus has put up with varying degrees of abuse from you lot for years, and accusing him of abusing_ me _is the final nail in the coffin, so to speak._

_If you cannot accept him, I cannot accept you._

 

_Harry_

 

Harry felt a great weight lift off his shoulders as he sealed the letter, handed it to his tawny owl, Buckland, and watched him fly off with the most eloquent 'fuck you' he'd likely ever written.

That done, Harry stepped out of his study to ready himself for the day ahead.

 

Harry knew his orphanage staff well, and the moment he stepped in, he knew something had happened.

“What is it?” he asked at once, and Hannah tried to rearrange her face into something neutral, though she didn't entirely manage it.

“It's nothing—” she began, but Harry cut across her a little more harshly than he had intended.

“You don't have a _nothing_ face, you have a _something_ face,” Harry said simply, “just tell me what happened.”

“New arrival,” she said, though her tone was very grave. “Werewolf child. She was bitten a month ago and her family insisted that they could take care of her properly, but...” she trailed off and Harry grimaced. He didn't need to hear the rest to know what had happened. “She's only seven and Minister Shacklebolt stepped in to stop the Aurors from arresting her and sent her here. Some of the wolf packs in contact with the Ministry say that her place is with them, but she doesn't want to go. She's in your office.”

“What's her name?” Harry asked.

“Lily,” Hannah replied with an apologetic look, and Harry didn't know whether he wanted to laugh or cry in response to that admission.

 

It took Harry several minutes to brace himself to see the little girl, and he let out a soft sigh of relief when he saw her sitting in the chair in front of his modest desk, her feet half a foot off the ground, dressed in deerskin boots, black leggings, a black skirt with large pink roses patterned over it, and a pale pink long-sleeved shirt.

Her hair was black and very curly, pulled onto the top of her head in a messy bun, and her chocolate brown eyes were highlighted with a ring of gold around the pupil.

Harry felt a little ashamed at how relieved he was that she in no way resembled his late mother, but all thoughts of Lily Potter raced from his mind when she looked up at him with the most heartbreaking expression upon her young face. She looked so lost, so _sad_.

“Hey there Lily,” Harry said gently as he stepped further into the office. “D'you know who I am?”

“Yeah,” she said softly, her eyes dropping to her swinging legs, “you're Harry Potter. You run this place.”

Harry couldn't help but beam at her. It made a nice change to be recognized for _that_ instead of as the so-called Saviour of the Wizarding World. He crossed the room and sat on the chair next to her instead of behind the desk, and she looked up at him with shining eyes.

“D'you know why you're here?” Harry asked softly, and she hiccoughed as a single tear streaked her cheek. She bowed her head a little, sniffling softly as she wiped away the tear quickly and took several deep breaths in an effort to calm herself. The only thing worse, Harry solemnly believed, than a crying child was the sight of a child trying desperately to _not_ cry.

“I—I want my mummy, a-and my daddy, and my b-big sister,” she said with a soft sniff, more fat tears streaking her cheeks as she spoke.

Harry didn't think, he did not even question the action. He gathered the little girl into his arms and hugged her close as she broke down completely and sobbed into his shoulder. He rubbed her back and let her cry, not saying a word. He felt like a liar, if he had tried to reassure her that everything would be fine. Everything _wouldn't_ be fine. She had killed her family. Things wouldn't be fine for her for a very long time.

She pulled back a little, and Harry handed her a tissue. She accepted it and mopped her eyes while Harry let her go and she sat back down on her chair, but it did not look as though she felt any better.

“There are a few kids like you here,” Harry said gently, “I won't lie to you, things won't be easy. There are a lot of people who will be scared of you because of what you are. But things are changing. And no one here will treat you any differently than the other kids. On the full moon we have to send you to stay with a local pack, but they won't force you to stay any longer than you want to be there, and it's only once a month. What do you think about that?”

“Am I a monster?” Lily asked softly, ignoring Harry's question. “Someone at the Min'stry said I was going to go to jail.” She hiccoughed again, her gaze fixed upon her knees.

“Who said that, do you remember?” Harry asked in the same soft tone, while he struggled to keep his indignation at the gall of whomever had said such a thing to a bare minimum.

“Dunno. Someone with a weird name...some sort of sweet. He said that I should be l-locked up.” Harry handed her another tissue, which she accepted, while he tried to reign in his anger. Fudge. It had to be. _How_ could that man say that to a little kid, who could not control what she had done?

“You won't be locked up Lily, I promise,” Harry said. “And you're not a monster. What happened wasn't your fault. No matter how many grownups you hear claiming it's your fault, well, they're wrong. No matter what, you are not to blame for...it.”

“If I'm not, how come I don't have rooms with the other kids?” She asked softly.

“You will. You're not the only werewolf here, and I can introduce you to the others: Calliope, Tim, Agnes, and Dolph. They have rooms with you.”

“I wanna go h-home,” she said, her voice still barely above a whisper, “I know I c-can't b-but I want to.”

Harry squeezed her shoulder, and she jumped into his arms for another hug. She held onto him tightly, and all he could do was hold her while he tried to salvage her life crumbling around her.

 

Forty-five minutes later, Lily had exhausted herself, and Harry quietly carried her to the bed they had prepared for her in the west wing, and pulled aside his little werewolf pack, instructing them to leave her be, and not pester her with questions until she felt ready to talk about it. They seemed to understand, and as Harry wandered out towards Hannah again, he realized that he'd only been there an hour, when he felt more like it had been more than a whole day.

“How is she?” Hannah asked tentatively.

“A mess,” Harry answered at once, heaving a sigh as he raked his finger through his hair. “She seems to understand what has happened, but sort of in an abstract way. She still wants to go home. I don't think it's really sunk in yet that she _can't_.” Harry leant against the wall where Hannah stood, and they looked into the drawing room that they'd converted into a playroom for the younger kids. “She spent most of her time with me crying, it just...broke my heart.”

“Poor thing,” she said with a sad little smile. “Once she comes to grips with things she'll be happy here, you've made a good home for these kids.”

“I just wish I could give them all what they really want,” Harry muttered. He didn't need to say it, Hannah understood what he meant, and she offered him a small nod of agreement.

 

Lily didn't come out of her new room all day, and by dinnertime Harry had begun to get a little worried about her. Harry loaded up a dinner tray with a meat pie and mash with a glass of pumpkin juice, and headed down to her shared room.

Harry knocked on the door with one knuckle before he let himself in to find Lily sitting on top of the duvet on her bed, her knees drawn up to her chest and her arms wrapped tightly around them. She looked over to Harry when he stepped inside, and her eyes were red and puffy from so much crying.

“Hey there,” Harry said gently, walking past the two other beds in the room to hers, and conjured a chair for himself with his free hand, then slid the tray onto her night table. “I brought you some dinner. I wasn't sure if you were ready to join everyone yet.”

“Thanks,” she mumbled while she pulled the tray into her lap, but beyond prodding the potatoes and smashing the pastry with her fork, she didn't eat it. “One of the girls came to see me, Agnes. She said you're like us, that you don't have a mummy or daddy either.”

Harry's smile suddenly became rather fixed, and his mind strayed back to his rejection at Molly's hands. Strangely, he found almost as though he had been orphaned twice, thanks to her and the rest of the Weasleys' attitude. He rearranged his face into something he hoped looked neutral, before he responded to her statement.

“Yeah, I am,” Harry said at last, “but it's a bit different than you, I was really little when it happened, so I don't really remember them.”

“Oh.” Lily looked back down to the offered food, and continued prodding it.

“I still miss them,” Harry said, “and their, um, friends told me a lot about them, so that helped me feel like I knew them.”

“Will it always be this hard?” she asked, looking up from her uneaten food and to Harry, her eyes shining. Harry felt that pull at his heart again.

“No,” Harry said hoping he sounded as reassuring, “You—you take them, and make a place for them in your heart. Your family wouldn't want you to stop because they're gone.” Harry paused, and his throat became tight as his thoughts went back to Sirius, Remus and Tonks, Fred... he shook his head. “Let yourself be sad, let yourself miss them, but don't let it consume you, that's what I'm getting at.”

“You sound like you had to do that a lot,” she said softly, her voice almost monotonous. “The putting people in your heart...thing.”

“I had a lot of bad luck,” Harry replied simply, forcing a small smile. “I know it's terrible right now, but things _will_ get better.” He moved to stand up, and he faltered at the panicked look in her eyes.

“Will you...stay with me a while?” Lily asked, her voice so small that Harry almost didn't catch it. Harry sat back down at once.

“I will on one condition,” Harry said gently, but firmly. “I want you to try to eat.”

 

~*~

 

Harry stepped out of the room two hours later with the empty tray in his hands and a heavy heart. Mostly, they sat in silence, while Lily would ask the occasional question about his parents, and Harry did his best to tell her about them without using their names. Harry couldn't quite say why, but he couldn't bring himself to tell the little girl that she shared her name with his own mother. That connection made Harry feel closer to her than the other children they housed, and he was quickly falling in love with the little girl. If Harry wasn't careful, he'd break down and bring her home tonight.

 

“How is she?” Hannah asked as Harry entered the kitchens and handed the tray to one of the house elves. She was leaning against the wall, a bowl of yoghurt and fruit in her hands. She looked about as tired as Harry felt.

“About as well as could be expected,” Harry muttered, looking up at the ceiling as he stopped next to her and leant back against the wall. “Devastated, scared...I'm more worried about how much I just want to take her home with me, you know?”

“From anyone else that would sound incredibly creepy,” Hannah said with a small smile while Harry snorted, “but from you...I know what you mean. I always figured you never adopted any of the kids because you didn't want them to think that you were playing favourites.”

“That, and Severus isn't exactly _into_ kids,” Harry replied with a smile. It wasn't exactly the truth, but Harry didn't think Severus would appreciate his insecurities about his parenting skills becoming common knowledge among his ex-students. “I mean, he's got a lot of things around the house they are definitely not kid-friendly,” he continued, “not dark artifacts or anything, just delicate potions ingredients for his shop and things like that.”

“It's still a bit weird to imagine you with our old Potions professor,” Hannah commented with a small laugh, and Harry smiled, weakly. “But, he makes you happy, I can see it.”

“You _can_?” Harry asked, blinking in confusion and surprise at her statement. How could Hannah _see_ it?

“You get this sort of...glow when you talk about him. It's pretty obvious that you're head over heels for him,” Hannah replied, still smiling at him warmly, “anyone who can't see it would have to be practically blind.”

“Wish the Weasleys could take lessons from you,” Harry muttered before he could think better of it, and Hannah regarded him oddly.

“What d'you mean?”

“Oh, um...” Harry felt his neck grow warm as he realized that he'd said more than he meant to. “The Weasleys...you know they're sort of like my surrogate family, and they don't approve of Severus...they have all these terrible misconceptions about him, and the other day Ron's mum informed me that Severus wasn't welcome at their Christmas Eve dinner. I've been pretty upset with the lot of them.”

“ _What_?” Hannah gaped at him. “And usually that family is so...welcoming. God, I hope you bit their heads off for that one.”

“More or less,” Harry said with a slight grin, “I wrote Molly the most nauseatingly polite ' _go fuck yourself'_ letter I possibly could.”

“Well,” Hannah said with a little huff, and looked down to her hands, where a simple engagement ring glinted on her finger. “If they can't accept who you love, when why should you accept them? I'd tell you to come over to our flat for Christmas Dinner, but I think Neville might kill me if Professor Snape showed up at our door.”

Harry snorted and nodded his thanks.

“I don't think Severus would appreciate spending an evening with Neville, he might actually poison me if I tried to make him do that,” Harry said, offering Hannah an apologetic look. She smiled in understanding, but didn't answer.

 

~*~

  

“You're late,” Severus remarked as Harry tumbled out of the sitting room Floo well past eleven.

After Harry's conversation with Hannah, he'd spent a further three hours alternating between paperwork he needed done before the holidays began, and going to Lily's side a number of times when she woke screaming from nightmares. It killed him to go home when she was in such a state, but he offered her a vial of the child-friendly Dreamless Sleep they had on hand, and she was finally sleeping peacefully by the time Harry had left.

“Sorry,” Harry replied as he stood up and brushed himself off, “new arrival—new _traumatized_ arrival. God I'm going to fucking _kill_ Fudge. Who the hell tries to imprison a seven-year old?! And what is that moron even _doing_ in the Magical Law Enforcement Office the prejudiced fuck, I swear if he takes one step towards her I'll curse his feet off.”

Severus's eyebrows shot up, and he didn't answer straightaway. He stood, his voluminous brewing robes cast aside for the evening and he was dressed simply in a fitted black button-down shirt and pair of trousers. He grabbed Harry by the forearm and steered him to the settee, and pressed a measure of brandy into his hands.

“Drink, then start from the beginning,” Severus said, sitting across from him with his ankle balanced upon his knee.

Harry sipped the drink, took a breath, and explained.

“There was a new arrival today, a little girl—werewolf. Her family thought they could handle it, but her first moon she slaughtered them—parents and older sister. Fudge, according to the little girl, wanted her sent to Azkaban. What I know from her file was that there were a few people on the Wizengamot who wanted her tried as an adult, but Kingsley barred that from happening. Severus—God, she's so devastated. I just...I'm so...” Harry trailed off, his throat tightening. Severus pulled Harry forward, so quickly he nearly tumbled into the older man's lap, and he plucked the drink from Harry's hand to set it aside.

“You're a good man, Harry Potter,” Severus murmured, and kissed him gently, “you have a big heart, and are more compassionate that I ever gave your credit for in your formative years. That being said, I must inform you that it might be time to take a step back; you're getting that _look_.”

“And what look might that be?” Harry asked, his voice a little breathless from the heat behind the kiss.

“That, _I want to take this child home_ look,” he said, distracting Harry from their conversation by casually unbuttoning his jeans and sliding his hand under the elastic of Harry's pants. “I am not an ideal parent for a child, and we would have to certainly curb our... _activities_ if you seriously want to adopt this little...cub.”

Harry groaned, and rested a hand on Severus's wrist in an effort to stop him from making his brain dissolve into a pile of goo.

“You're making it _very_ hard to concentrate, you realize,” Harry said, his breath hitching when Severus ignored the hint and returned to slowly stroking Harry to hardness, eliciting a soft moan from him.

“I am merely trying to prove a point,” he said smoothly, “before you get too invested in this child's life. We have a fairly active sex life, and we would have to perhaps no longer fuck on the sofa, for instance, or in the kitchen, or in your study, if you were to adopt her,” Severus murmured, his velvet tones paired with the precise movements of his hand eliciting another feeble moan from Harry.

“We,” Harry mumbled, while he tilted his head back against the leather upholstery.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Not me, _we_ would adopt her,” Harry muttered, his voice hitching a little when Severus's hand stilled. Harry's mind cleared enough to marvel at the strangeness of the situation, discussing adopting a child, while his partner gave him a hand job. Of all the ways Harry had pictured a conversation on the subject coming about, in none of them was he so aroused.

“I am not exactly _parent_ material,” Severus replied as he began to move his hand again. Harry sat up and pulled him in for a kiss, his demanding tongue parted Severus's thin lips and he tasted the brandy on the older man's tongue. Harry's breathing was erratic, and he whined as he bucked into Severus's deliciously talented hand. One last feeble jerk and Harry came with a muffled grunt, staining his trousers and Severus's hand with his seed.

Severus cleaned the pair of them up with a casual flick of his wand, and Harry leant against him, panting softly as he came down from his post-orgasm high.

“You're selling yourself short,” Harry mumbled, moving a hand to press the heel of his palm into Severus's groin, a silent promise that he'd return the favour when he'd recovered, “I think you'd be a brilliant parent.”

“My child-care abilities went as far as keeping my Slytherins in line,” Severus replied, tracing Harry's jaw with his long fingers while he spoke, and Harry shivered under the light touch. “And keeping you and your idiotic friends from getting yourselves killed, of course.”

“Being a dad is a little different than being a Head of House,” Harry pointed out, and shifted onto his side so that he could stare up at Severus more comfortably. “And...I dunno, in a weird way I feel like she was meant for us, like the Fates sent her our way to help her.”

“And how did you come to this somewhat ridiculous, airy-fairy conclusion?” Severus asked with an arched brow, his disbelief at Harry's statement written all over his face.

“Her name is Lily.”

Severus froze, and did not respond to his statement. Not that Harry really expected an answer, and he went to work returning the earlier favour to his lover. Harry opened Severus's trousers and extricated his heavy, erect cock, and bowed forward to take it into his mouth.

Though Harry adored his partner, one thing that he always found a little depressing was Severus's lack of verbal response when they did anything intimate together. As with all things, Severus was incredibly reserved, and the only indication Harry ever had that he was enjoying himself was the slight change in his breathing pattern.

A hand on the back of his neck indicated that Severus was close, and with a soft groan he found his release, and Harry swallowed it without thinking twice about it. Licking his lips in an exaggerated fashion, he folded himself into Severus's offered embrace while he tucked himself away. He gazed around their sitting room, done up for the holidays with simplistic, tasteful décor, and Harry nearly fell off the settee from shock at the next words that came from Severus's mouth.

“Perhaps this house _does_ need a little warmth...”

  

~*~

  

In the days leading up to Christmas, Harry was amazed that his whole brain didn't fall out from his seemingly endless list of things he had to do. In between buying gifts for the kids, checking with Hagrid to ensure that his Father Christmas costume still fit, and kid-proofing the house, Harry realized that his rejection from the Weasleys hadn't even crossed his mind in over a week—nor did he ever hear back from Molly, which suited him just fine.

While at the orphanage itself, Harry had a shadow in the form of little Lily, who seemed to be quite taken with him and never left his side, and looked positively heartbroken when he had to leave in the evenings.

On the twenty-third, Harry arrived home to see Severus waiting for him on the settee, tapping his foot impatiently, with several official-looking documents spread over the coffee table.

“We may have hit a snag with adopting this girl you're so keen on,” Severus said, and Harry's absolute devastation must have shown on his face, for Severus was quick to push forward. “It would seem, that according to Wizarding Law, a couple seeking to adopt a child must be legally wed in order to do so.”

Harry looked down at the table, and his breath caught. Mixed in with the adoption documents they'd been poring over was a document that read _Marriage License._ Severus stood, circled the table, and took Harry's hands.

“Harry James Potter,” Severus said, his voice wavering over the second name, but Harry ignored it. “You are the man I have been looking for all my life, you are my soulmate, he who makes me whole. Would you marry me?” He asked, and Harry almost laughed. He pulled his hands from Severus's and threw himself at the older man, kissing him hard on the mouth _._

“As if I'd say no,” Harry murmured against his mouth, and kissed him again. He could feel, rather than hear Severus's chuckle, and he used the drawn out kiss as an excuse to compose himself a little before he pulled back, though his throat was still rather tight from the impromptu, heartfelt proposal.

After a moment Severus reluctantly stepped back, his hands trailing down Harry's arms to clasp his hands, and he turned towards the foyer.

“You may come out now,” he said, and out stepped Minerva McGonagall, and two wizards he only vaguely recognized as Ministry employees. The first was a squat man, perhaps a similar height to Professor Flitwick, and the second was tall and thin, with a solemn look to him that made Harry think that he might be better suited to working in a funeral home than doling out marriage licences.

“You arse,” Harry whispered, “how long have you been planning this?”

“About twelve hours,” he replied with a smirk and Harry snorted. He squeezed Harry's hands, and his smirk darkened a little as he whispered, “Just wait until they leave, and I will give you a wedding night that you'll feel for the next week, this I promise you.” The words went straight to Harry's groin, and he nearly moaned out loud.

“Are we ready to begin?” The little wizard asked, and Harry shook his head a little to clear his head (though it didn't help much) and he and Severus nodded.

The little wizard nodded his head once, and conjured a little stepping stool for him to stand on, making him just barely a head shorter than Harry. McGonagall and the other Ministry wizard stood off to one side, Harry's former Head of House dabbing at the corners of her eyes with a tartan handkerchief, which made Harry feel a little warm.

“Please clasp your hands together,” the wizard instructed, drawing Harry's attention back to the ceremony itself, and Severus led Harry in weaving their hands together like an advanced version of the clasped hands for an Unbreakable Vow, and the little wizard rested the tip of his wand upon them.

“Now, if you would answer these three questions, Mr Snape...” the wizard turned to him, “Do you solemnly swear to honour, love, and protect Harry James Potter from this moment forth until your death?”

“I do,” Severus replied at once, and a thin golden thread sprouted from the man's wand tip and coiled around their hands.

“And do you solemnly swear that you will bear the weight of his joy and his sorrows, of his triumphs, and of his failures?”

“I do,” Severus replied, and a second strand of gold thread joined the first.

“And is it your most heartfelt desire to bind yourself to Harry James Potter, to join your life with his, and to create a new path together?”

“It is.”

A third thread joined the others, and the little wizard turned to Harry.

“Do you solemnly swear to honour, love, and protect Severus Tobias Snape from this moment forth until your death?”

“I do,” Harry said, and watched as a thin silver thread crossed over Severus's gold ones.

“And do you solemnly swear that you will bear the weight of his joy and his sorrows, of his triumphs, and of his failures?”

“I do,” Harry answered, and he watched another silver thread join the others.

“And is it your most heartfelt desire to bind yourself to Severus Tobias Snape, join your life with his, and to create a new path together?”

“It is,” Harry said, shifting his gaze from the wizard to Severus, and he felt so impossibly warm, so impossibly happy, and he could not understand why the Weasleys would want to deny him this.

“Then by the power vested in me on behalf of the Ministry of Magic, I now pronounce you...bound for life.”

The little wizard tapped their hands and the threads seemed to sink in to their skin. It was painless, and left Harry's hands feeling delightfully tingly. As soon as the threads disappeared, Harry stared as identical gold bands with a line of silver running through them materialized upon their ring fingers, both rings seeming to fit upon their fingers perfectly.

“You may now kiss,” the ministry wizard finished, and three pairs of hands applauding them as Severus drew Harry forward, and kissed him so gently, so tenderly, that Harry felt as though he might weep. It was better than if the entire Great Hall had been cheering for them, and Harry could not possibly imagine a better at-home shotgun wedding than this.

Harry reached up and wrapped his arms around Severus's neck, holding tightly to him in an effort to draw out the kiss as long as he could. He could have stood there and kissed the man all night, but Harry wasn't keen on getting overly excited in front of his former Head of House, and they pulled apart somewhat reluctantly, though they still held onto each other's hands.

“There is merely the formality of the Marriage License,” the other Ministry wizard said solemnly, his low, almost mournful tone of voice reminding Harry strikingly of Vincent Price. Harry did not need telling twice, and he accepted the short red quill from him, and bent over to sign his name, but started slightly when the ink came out a deep red—a red he recognized at once as blood. He felt no pain however, though he could almost feel his old _I must not tell lies_ scar tingling at the sight of it.

“Official documents such as these require blood signatures Mr Potter,” the Ministry wizard explained, “however, we do not need your own signature carved into your skin.”

Harry smiled sheepishly and finished signing, then handed the quill to Severus. He signed as well, followed by the witnesses, and at last the marriage officiate. The moment the last signature was added, the document rolled up into a tight scroll on its own and vanished.

The two Ministry wizards took their leave with a few muttered salutatory words, but McGonagall hung back, smiling warmly at each of them—an expression Harry could recall seeing very rarely upon her face.

“Harry, Severus,” she began, looking from one to the other, “you two have endured so much, at the hands of Dark wizards, the press, the public...and your families.” McGonagall's eyes rested on Harry as she spoke the latter, and fleetingly Harry wondered if he knew about what had happened between him and the Weasleys. “You both deserve all the happiness in the world, and to anyone who cares to look, it is quite clear how much you care for one another.”

“Thanks Professor,” Harry said, feeling himself flush scarlet under her praise.

“Indeed, it is appreciated Minerva,” Severus echoed, and she offered them both one last smile before stepping towards the Floo herself and disappearing in the whirl of green flame.

 

Before Harry could open his mouth to speak, an arm snaked around his waist, pulled him close, and Severus caught Harry's mouth with his.

Harry threw his arms over Severus's shoulders, pressing the length of his body to the older man's and let out a soft groan of desire as his jeans slowly but steadily grew tighter and more uncomfortable.

“What do you say we move this party upstairs?” Harry murmured, reaching out to nip at Severus's lower lip. “I do believe you said something about giving me a wedding night that I'll feel for a week?”

Severus smirked, and gave Harry's hands a sharp tug before leading his husband upstairs.

 

Upon stepping into the bedroom, Harry chuckled as he caught sight of a bottle of champagne in a bucket of ice next to two empty flutes. Severus wrapped his arms around Harry's waist from behind, and he perched his chin on his shoulder.

“Really went all-out, didn't you?” Harry asked, tilting his gaze up a little so that he could see him. “I never took you for a romantic.”

“Generally I'm not, as you well know,” Severus replied in a soft purr, while he pressed a feather-light kiss to the side of Harry's throat, “but it seemed the thing to do.”

Chuckling softly, he tugged Severus over to the bed, plopped himself down and reached for the bottle, but Severus beat him to it.

“Allow me,” he said, and Harry caught his lower lip between his teeth to keep from grinning too broadly as Severus tapped the cork and poured, managing to keep the overflow to a minimum. Likely, Severus was remembering the bottle Harry had bought when they'd first moved in together, and how most of it had wound it up the floor, instead of in their glasses.

Severus set the bottle back in the ice and offered one of the flutes to Harry, which he accepted, and held it up.

“To the future?” Severus prompted.

“To _family,_ ” Harry replied. Severus's mouth twitched into a small half-smile, and they toasted, then drank. Harry enjoyed the tickling sensation of it sliding down his throat, but enjoyed the taste of it on Severus's tongue even more.

He set aside the half-drunk glass blindly, Harry's entire focus on the hot mouth upon and his. Severus lowered him onto the bed, one of Severus's hands planted flat upon the bed inches from Harry's head, whilst the other snaked beneath Harry's jumper.

Harry let out a soft, plaintive moan, and lifted his arms to enable Severus to peel off the garment, along with the T-shirt underneath. Severus tossed it aside as his lips moved from Harry's mouth to his throat, and he trailed soft kisses interspersed with love bites along the column of flesh, continuing further south before he stopped at Harry's left nipple. He bit down a little harder than was necessary and gave the flushed nub a small tug. Harry groaned, arching his back into the combination of pain and pleasure, while he reached up to blindly fiddle with the thousands of buttons on the older man's robes.

Grumbling about the man's preference for garments with an infuriating amount of _buttons_ , Harry managed to get the garment off, paired with a fair amount of mutinous grumbling. Severus's fair torso was exposed as he shrugged out of the robe, and Harry leant up at once to taste him.

His fingers trailed over the faint indent of muscle on Severus's lithe frame, over the gnarled scars left by Nagini, and the sparse, dark body hairs that trailed downward and disappeared into the front of his black trousers.

Severus pushed Harry back down onto the bed, lightly pinning him there with one hand, while he used the other to rid Harry of his jeans, pants, and socks. He then allowed his young husband to mirror his actions, and Harry feverishly tugged down Severus's black trousers, his movements awkward and clumsy in his haste.

Severus wordlessly coaxed Harry onto his belly without preamble, and Harry shivered as he felt the tickle of the man's hair brush against his back, while a cleansing charm rushed though him, causing him to gasp sharply.

However, instead of the lubricant-slick fingers Harry had expected, his breath hitched as he felt Severus's large hands close over his buttocks. He rubbed and massaged the muscle before parting Harry's cheeks, and he groaned as he felt the older man's tongue circle his hole.

Shuddering under Severus's touch, Harry let out another groan of pleasure as his tongue dipped into Harry's entrance, stretching the muscle lightly, while he massaged Harry's bum continually. He reached forward and grabbed fistfuls of the duvet, while he squirmed under the man's practised ministrations.

Slick fingers joined the tongue, and Harry trembled, his breath hitching as he pressed back into the digits, the tongue withdrawing as a third finger was added, and a warm kiss was pressed to the base of his spine.

“Want...you...” Harry mumbled, his breathing laboured as Severus's fingers stretched Harry much more than was necessary as he teased Harry's prostate.

“Your wish is my command,” Severus purred, and he withdrew the fingers, replacing them at once by the head of his cock. Harry jerked as if to impale himself upon it, but Severus's hand on his hip stilled his movements, and Harry let out a whine of impatience.

“All in good time,” Severus murmured, rubbing Harry's hip while he eased into him, sliding in smoothly until he had completely sheathed himself inside Harry's arse. It was true that they had a _very_ active sex life and the sensation of Severus's cock in him was not a new experience, but it felt infinitely better to do so as a lawfully wedded couple.

Severus did not wait for Harry to completely acclimate to the sensation before he began thrusting, pounding Harry's arse forcefully enough to make his entire body jerk forward every time. Harry groaned appreciatively, moving in time with Severus, panting hard as he tried to stave off orgasm for as long as he could, but like with every other time with Severus, his expertise in the bedroom made it incredibly difficult.

Giving in to his base desires, Harry reached down to stroke himself, and came with a loud cry, painting the bedspread with his seed. Severus appeared to be spurred forward by Harry's orgasm, and filled Harry's arse a moment later.

They collapsed upon the bed a mess of tangled limbs. Severus pulled out of Harry as his cock softened, and Harry flicked his wand a few times to clean up their respective messes enough that the room did not reek _as_ much of sex. Harry rolled over and kissed Severus tenderly, loving the way Severus's arm instinctively coiled around his waist, pulling him close.

“That was...brilliant,” Harry breathed, then kissed him again.

“And now that we are lawfully wedded...are you ready to take in a werewolf cub?” Severus asked, arching a brow, and Harry answered with another kiss.

“I'm _more_ than ready,” Harry murmured, “but for now...My arse is _hardly_ sore enough. You up for another round?”

Severus arched a brow at Harry, but he did not wait for the older man to answer before he was already palming his cock, stroking him back to hardness. Severus let out a minute groan in response to Harry's touch, and Harry urged him onto his back, leaning in to kiss Severus while he positioned himself, and sank onto Severus's cock.

Harry succumbed to the throes of passion, and rode Severus with near-wild enthusiasm, milking another orgasm from him, and as Harry collapsed next to him for the second time, Harry wondered just how many times they could go tonight before passing out from exhaustion. Harry grinned, eager to find out. 

 

~*~

 

The following day, Christmas Eve, Harry left his wedding bed earlier than he would have liked. Severus had promised to close his potions shop early and have everything ready at home before he was due to visit the orphanage that evening—for the first time. Harry felt a thrill of excitement at the prospect of Severus _finally_ seeing where he worked. Of course, he knew all about everything Harry did there, but his aversion to small children meant that he'd been reluctant to visit.

His heart full to the brim with joy and anticipation, he kissed his husband goodbye and leapt into the Floo.

Harry had a full day's schedule of things to do, starting with sneaking off to one of the side rooms in the Orphanage to pack up the wrapped and labelled gifts for the kids in a large sack, ready for Father Christmas himself to pick up.

His next order of business was to head to Diagon Alley, where he stocked up on everything they were likely to run out of before the shops re-opened on Boxing Day: Toilet paper, essence of dittany, tea, pumpkin juice, and other such items.

He stopped in to visit with the kids for a few hours—his so-called break between errands. Lily was hot on his heels as always, and the sight of her filled Harry with a thrill of excitement. He hoped that she would be as happy about his adoption of her as he hoped. The kinship he felt with this little girl was something he couldn't explain in words, but he knew it was there, and it was something that couldn't possibly be ignored.

Harry's final errand of the day was stopping in at Hogwarts in the early evening, and Hagrid was already there waiting for him in the Headmistress's office.

“Hi Hagrid,” Harry said with a grin, looking up at the enormous Father Christmas that stood there waiting for him. The corners of his eyes crinkled, and his eyes twinkling very much like one would expect Father Christmas's eyes to do. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah, bin ready fer the last hour. What kept yeh?” Hagrid asked, and Harry grinned.

“Top secret, more than my job's worth to tell you that,” Harry replied cryptically, and Hagrid snorted.

“All righ' let's git goin',” he said, “Father Chris'mas has got lots ter do tonight,” Hagrid said as Harry laughed and pulled out the Portkey. Hagrid laid his dustbin cover-sized hand upon the little candy cane, and with a tug like a hook behind Harry's navel, they were off.

They landed in a heap in the room where the sack of toys had been secreted away, thankfully Harry had landed more or less on top of Hagrid, which was a relief as Harry could only imagine what he'd look like if it had been the reverse—likely similar to a pancake version of himself like he had seen in muggle cartoons.

Harry stood and Hagrid followed suit, his white beard and hair looking very strange to Harry. Even though he'd seen it every year for the last five years, Harry had yet to get used it it.

“Ready to go Santa?” Harry asked when Hagrid had finished brushing himself off.

“Ar, let's—hold on one second,” he said, looking down to Harry's hands. Harry felt himself go a little red. “You an' Professor Snape tied the knot, then?” Harry nodded, smiling meekly.

“Last night. Kind of...spur of the moment,” Harry replied, and Hagrid's smile at him widened.

“Well congratulations Harry! Tha's wonderful. You an' Professor Snape tergether...It took a bit gettin' used to at first, but yeh're good fer each other. Well done Harry.”

“Thanks,” Harry said, feeling his flush worsen a little. It was heartening to see everyone else accept his relationship with Severus—even if the Weasleys couldn't. “But we can celebrate later, yeah? I know some kids who are _dying_ to see you.”

 

Leaving Hagrid behind, Harry stepped into the main room where the children had congregated. The older kids that had returned from Hogwarts for the holidays were helping keep an eye on the younger ones, and overall there was a buzz of excitement in the air. It _was_ Christmas Eve, after all.

In an instant, Lily was at his side. She looked up at him uncertainly, and Harry hoisted her up with a grunt. “Hey Lils, had a good day?” She shrugged a little, but didn't answer.

“Was okay I suppose,” she answered, her arms linking around Harry's neck to hold herself up.

“Just okay?” Harry asked, and she nodded. Harry tightened his hold on her, giving her a little squeeze of reassurance, and she returned it feebly. Since her arrival, many of the other kids seemed disappointed that she'd been monopolizing Harry's attention, but given that most of them were children of war, they understood it, and never complained.

Balancing Lily in one arm, he diverted his attention from her for one moment while he withdrew his wand from his pocket and gave it a little flick.

Immediately, a few of the kids squealed with excitement as from above them the sound reindeer hooves upon the roof rumbled through the house.

“Santa!” Cried one of the kids, “it's Santa Claus!”

As if on cue, Hagrid marched out into the room, the huge sack over his shoulder, his free hand resting on his belly as he was swarmed by the children.

“Ho, ho, ho!” He cried, “I was on my way ter London an' I needed ter make a stop here first. Harry has bin tellin' me that yeh've all bin very good this year, ho, ho, ho!”

The gibbering children, insisting that they'd all been good, was so jumbled that Harry couldn't pick one voice out of all the others, and he chuckled a bit as he looked on.

“Wanna go join them?” Harry asked Lily softly, and her arms tensed around him while she shook her head.

“Father Christmas won't have anything for me,” she whispered sadly. Harry's brow furrowed in confusion, and he focused all his attention on her.

“What d'you mean?” Harry asked softly.

“I'm a...monster. Monsters don't get Christmas presents, or families...” She mumbled, her voice breaking as she trailed off.

“You're _not_ a monster, Lily. What happened wasn't your fault, and werewolves get Christmases just like everyone else,” Harry replied, watching out of the corner of his eye as Hannah summoned Hagrid's huge 'Santa Claus Chair' and sat down as he began to unload his sack. “Whatever gave you that idea?”

She wouldn't answer, but instead shook her head mutely.

Harry heaved a soft sigh. He was going to throttle whoever put such an idea in her head, but first, he had some damage control to do.

“C'mon,” Harry said, straightening up and began to walk down the hall and away from the festivities, “I've got someone I want you to meet.”

Harry strode down the hall with her still clinging to him, bypassing his office completely and stopped at the very end of the hall where they faced a set of heavy double doors. He set Lily down and took her hand, then unlocked the doors with a quick flick of his wand.

“This is the library,” Harry explained, “not all the stuff in here is kid-friendly, so we don't always have it open, but there's someone here who would love to meet you.” He gave her hand a little tug, and after a moment's hesitation, she followed his lead, though Harry could see the reluctance in her every step.

Harry walked along the line of desks he'd set up for the older kids to use for studying, and along the wall was a line of portraits, for the moment most of them empty as their subjects were visiting their other frames. Harry stopped before one halfway down the line, a tiny gilded label beneath the frame read _Remus Lupin,_ it placed in between two other portraits—of Fred and Tonks.

“Remus,” Harry called, “think you could come over? I've got someone I'd like you to meet.”

Harry hoisted Lily up to stand on the desk so that she was eye-level with the painting, and ever so slowly his old Defence professor sidled into the frame from his other portrait at the Ministry.

“Harry,” he said with his familiar placid smile. Even now, seeing him yet knowing he was gone ached in Harry. “Good to see you again. And who is this young lady?”

“This is Lily,” Harry said, smiling a little at the way Remus started at the name. “She was recently bitten, and someone—she won't tell me who, has been putting some rather funny ideas in her head.” Harry turned to Lily and gave her hand a small squeeze. “Lily, this is Remus Lupin. He was my old Defence Against the Dark Arts professor at school, and he was a werewolf too.”

Her eyes widened and she turned to him. The movement was so abrupt that the desk wobbled a little, and Harry lifted a hand to keep her from falling.

“You were?” She asked softly, her voice a little breathless, and Remus nodded once.

“Indeed I was. I received the bite when I was about your age. But being a werewolf isn't all that you are. It is merely a part of you, now,” Remus said gently.

“But...aren't werewolves monsters? S-someone told me that they're monsters,” Lily said, her voice so small Harry wasn't certain that Remus would be able to hear her.

“For a long time, that is what I believed, and I was very ashamed of being bitten,” Remus said in the same gentle tone, “but a werewolf is a magical creature, just like a dragon, a unicorn, a krup, or a kneazle. We deserve the same respect as any other creature, and we are most assuredly _not_ monsters.”

Awestruck, Lily sat down on the edge of the desk as she stared up at him. “Then...how come people are afraid of me? I don't want to scare people.”

Harry took a step back, far enough to give Lily and Remus's portrait some privacy, but still close enough that he was within Lily's line of sight. He had a feeling that she might become distressed if he disappeared from view.

For more than an hour, Harry watched Lily talk with the portrait of the late Remus Lupin, her eyes were wide and shining, completely enthralled with whatever they were discussing. Her legs swung off the edge, and Remus's expression was so similar to how Harry had seen him as a professor at school that merely watching the pair filled him with dozens of flashes of memory, both happy and sad. Harry had to turn away a number of times to compose himself before he turned back to watching the pair.

At last, Lily slid from the desk, hurried over to Harry, and hugged him tightly around the waist.

“Thank you,” she whispered softly, then to Harry's absolute shock, she let him go and ran out the doors without another word.

Harry approached Remus's portrait, and he was beaming back at him.

“Thanks Remus,” Harry said, brushing the edge of the gilded frame with his fingertips.

“I'm always here for you Harry, you know that,” he said, and Harry felt his throat tighten a little. Even eight years later, it was hard to believe that he was really gone. “That girl is very attached to you.”

“She is,” Harry agreed, turning his gaze to the ajar doors. “Severus and I want to adopt her, he's coming by later to meet her.”

“Oh, I would love to see Severus Snape as a parent,” Remus said with a warm chuckle, “how on earth did you talk him into it?”

“You probably don't want to know,” Harry replied with a short laugh and a grin.

“Too true, I probably don't,” Remus replied with a nod, “do bring her back to see me any time. She is an...endearing child.”

“You noticed that too, eh?”

 

Not long after, Harry bid the portrait goodbye, and he slipped out of the library, locking it behind him as he went.

Back in the main room, Harry spotted Lily perched on Hagrid's knee, talking quietly with him while she held an enormous gingerbread man in her hands. Hannah sidled up to him and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Hm?” He raised his eyebrows at her.

“There's a certain cranky ex-professor in your office waiting for you,” she said with a knowing smile. Smiling in thanks, he pivoted on his heel and ran back down the hall.

“You're here,” Harry breathed the moment he stepped in, spotting Severus eased back in one of the available chairs, nursing a glass of scotch that he'd likely taken from Harry's secret stash. Severus set down the glass, stood, and drew Harry into a kiss. “You're actually here,” Harry repeated, kissing him back and pulling him into a tight embrace.

“As promised,” Severus replied with a small smirk of amusement. “Do I strike you as one to back out of my word?”

“Well, no,” Harry replied with a flush, “but I've been asking you to visit for ages, and it's hard to believe that you're actually _here._ ”

“Well,” Severus said with a chuckle, “I must say, I _am_ very impressed. When you said orphanage...I hardly pictured this,” he replied, his voice ringing with something close to awe, carried with Severus's trademark velvet tone of voice. He waved his hand a little to indicate the manor at large, while Harry smiled under the praise, and merely drunk in the sight of him. Severus seemed to have been trying to appear _less_ intimidating than usual, and had thus donned a charcoal grey turtleneck and solid black trousers, and his hair was brushed away from his face and tied at the base of his neck with a black leather cord.

“Now,” Severus said, drawing Harry from his slight daze, “where is the little hellion you wish to take home with us? I brought all the paperwork with me. Our esteemed leader had it rushed through—given that it's _you_.” He arched a brow at Harry, and he smiled meekly, pleased that for once his fame had done something good.

“Be right back,” Harry said, and kissed Severus one last time before he hurried back out of the office.

When Harry returned to the main room, he spotted Lily hanging on the edge of the activities, looking on with an expression of uncertainty, as though she wasn't sure whether she should join in or not.

Harry stepped over to her, and squeezed her shoulder gently to draw her attention to him.

“Hey Lily,” he said, “all right?” She nodded silently with a small smile. Harry was uncertain how much of it was feigned, but he hoped that he could fix that with what he was about to ask of her. “I have someone else I'd like you to meet. A real person this time, not a portrait.”

“Um, okay,” she said, her brow knitting in confusion as she reached up for his hand.

“Now,” Harry said as he led her away from the festivities, “don't be nervous. This man...he might seem a little scary, but I promise you that he's the most wonderful man you'll ever meet.” Harry bit back a laugh as he watched Hannah rush over to one of the other employees to murmur something to her, and they both looked on excitedly as Harry led Lily away. 

“How do you know he's so wonderful?” Lily asked, cocking a brow at him.

“Well...because he's my husband,” Harry answered, and he felt a thrill of joy rush through him at the word. _Husband._ He, Harry Potter, had a _husband_.

Appearing more confused than ever, she continued to follow Harry's lead into his office where they'd first met.

Despite Severus's clear attempt at appearing less intimidating than usual, Harry couldn't deny that he still had a certain presence about him. This wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but it did cause Lily to pause on the threshold and look up at Severus uncertainly.

“You must be the young lady my husband has been gushing about for the last week,” Severus said as he stood and took a few steps forward. “Lily, am I correct?” She nodded a little. “My name is Severus. I'm here today because Harry and I have a question for you.”

“A question?” She echoed, finally stepping further inside, though she still stared at Severus with confusion.

“Indeed. You see, in our home, we have a spare room,” Severus began, “one, curiously enough, that happens to have a bed and a wardrobe that would be most fitting for a young lady like yourself. I also have this...” Severus paused and withdrew a little wooden door plaque from his pocket, and held it out to her. She took it, and the mauve sign read in white, flowing text, _Lily's Room_.

Lily stared at the sign, then looked up from Harry to Severus and back down to the sign. Harry watched the cogs in her brain turn as she put two and two together and her eyes widened as she gasped audibly, nearly dropping the plaque in her hands in the process.

“You want to adopt me?” She asked in a rush, and Harry nodded at once.

“If you want,” Harry replied. “Like Severus said, we have a room ready for you, and— _urk!_ ” He staggered back a little as she threw herself at him in a tight hug, then turned and repeated it to Severus, who appeared alarmed for a moment, then patted her shoulder gently, if a bit awkwardly.

“Oh, thank you, _thank you_!” Lily said tearfully, her emotional tone garbling her words somewhat. “Can we go right now? I can pack my stuff and—and I don't have a lot, I won't be long, I promise!”

“We can go whenever you like, there's no hurry,” Harry replied with a chuckle, but didn't manage to get in another word as the little girl immediately zipped from the room.

“Well she's...endearing,” Severus observed as he stared at the empty doorway, “I can understand what you saw in her.”

“Yeah,” Harry said a little dazedly, unable to wipe the smile from his face as he stared at the empty space just as Severus had.

“Come on then, let's get the paperwork sorted before our little beast returns,” Severus said his tone almost affectionate, which brought another wide smile to Harry's face.

They turned their attention to the adoption papers, which they both signed with a flourish, and like the marriage license, they rolled up and disappeared at once. Harry dropped the quill on the desktop, and pulled Severus for a kiss.

“I love you,” Harry whispered, “I know we don't say it a lot but—” Harry's words were cut off with another kiss.

“Shh, I know, Harry,” Severus murmured, punctuating his words with another kiss. “I love you too.”

They pulled apart just in time to see Lily reappear with a packed rucksack and stuffed bear under her arm.

“I'm ready,” she said a little breathlessly, “You _really_ want to adopt me, Harry? Really?” She asked, and Harry chuckled a little.

 “We already have. The paperwork is all done, and your place in our home is there for as long as you want it,” Harry said, one arm still wrapped around Severus's waist, while he extended the other, offering her his hand. She hurried forward and grabbed it without a moment's hesitation.

"Is forever okay?” She asked, “can I stay forever?”

“Works for me,” Harry replied with a soft laugh, and with his adoptive daughter on one side of him, and his husband on the other, the little family used Harry's office Floo to head for home, and it was in that moment that Harry realized that family is only what you make of it. He may have lost his ties with the Weasley clan, but Fate, had given him something even more precious, something he would not trade for anything.

 

As they landed in their sitting room and gave Lily the grand tour, finishing with her bedroom, which had up until this afternoon had been their drab, unused guest room, now decorated in colours of soft mauve and white. Harry felt his throat grow tight for the umpteenth time that evening as Lily once more turned and hugged him tightly, and he watched in quiet amazement as she turned to Severus and did the same, his normally dour expression softening, and Harry could swear he saw the ghost of a smile grace his features as he rested a hand upon her shoulder and gave it a small squeeze.

They left her to unpack, and she joined them in the sitting room for a mug of hot cocoa before bed, her eyes drawn to the small details that she was truly wanted in their household, from the few packages under their tree with her name on them to the third stocking added hung from the mantle that read _Lily_ in flowing, glittering script.

Harry had never seen her so happy, and after they'd shuffled her off to bed, Harry pulled Severus in for a kiss, his own eyes a little damp from the surrealism of the evening, of the fact that _two_ was now _three_ , of the fact that in the span of twenty-four hours he had adopted the epithets of both _husband_ and _father_. It was more than he had ever dared hope for.

His husband brushed away the joyous tears, and took him to bed, this time casting cursory silencing charms beforehand, and he flicked his wand at the small pile of parcels that had been hidden in their room labelled _To Lily, From Santa_ , banishing to their place beneath the tree for their daughter to find tomorrow morning.

They made careful love that night, taking their time in tasting each other, revelling in their new roles as _parents._ Afterwards, as they lay there basking in the afterglow, Harry reached up and brushed his hand along the sharp lines of Severus's cheek, smiling sleepily, almost glowing in his joy.

“I love you, Severus Snape,” Harry murmured, leaning in to brush his lips over his husband's. Severus's mouth twitched into something close to a smirk, and still holding Harry close, he drew the duvet over their entangled bodies, never vocalizing his answer, but neither did he need to.

He knew.

 

-Fin 


End file.
